


My Heartbeat Baby (won't let you down)

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Denial, Drugged Stiles Stilinski, Halloween, Humor, M/M, Mates, Mild Angst, Necks, POV Alternating, Painkillers, Pining, Stalker Derek Hale, Texting, Witches, sweet sweet denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 22:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8226632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Derek can i have your Slurpee?” “no” “I licked the straw, now it's got cooties, human cooties. You're probably allergic Derek. It's like cross-species contamination or something. I'll just take it off your hands. Grape flavour is so not you anyways, I'm saving you from purple tongued embarrassment. Hey! Do werewolves get brain freeze?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is cannon compliant up through most of season 2 but at some point diverges because I really like the idea of Derek being the alpha of one big happy pack that includes everyone and no one ever dies or moves away. Sigh... It's fic ok? I can make everyone happy together dammit! All the main events up through season 3a happen though. 
> 
> For the purposes of this story, Stiles is legal (18) and in senior year.  
> For minor drug use trigger warning please see end notes.
> 
> The title is from the song Heartbeat by Autograf, aaaand I listened to it on repeat for most of writing this. 
> 
> Each chapter title is the name of the person who's POV it is. I clearly don't know what I'm doing with chapter length. What even are chapters? Also please don't ask me where I learned to punctuate. I didn't, is the secret. I'm just guessing ALL OF THE TIME!!!!! No one beta'd this (because I have no clue how to make that happen) so all the mistakes are mine and I apologize. *runs away to hide behind illiterateness*

**My Heartbeat Baby (won't let you down)**

 

 

Chapter 1- DEREK:

 

Everyday Derek runs the boarder of Hale territory. Then, when thats done, he runs wherever the mood strikes him. Sometimes he runs by the high school. 100% not stalking anyone.

The rest of his pack attends the school and he is checking up on them. Just because he always ends up where Stiles is specifically, means nothing. Stiles is always around the rest of the pack. It's perfectly reasonable.

 

There is a lacrosse game today. Derek stands on the sidelines watching no one in particular. No one who's name begins with S and rhymes with files. Derek stuffs his hands deeper into his jacket pockets and glares at the field. Its time to go, but it seems harder then it should be. Like an especially strong magnet. Derek manages to turn and walk away, gritting his teeth, listening to Stiles' heartbeat until he is too far to hear it anymore. Denial is half the workout.

 

 

Chapter 2 – STILES:

 

Collapsing on one of the locker room benches, Stiles sighs, takes off his gear and peals off his sweaty clothes, drops them wherever and heads for the showers.

“McCall! Give me your pink poofy. I know you have one, don't lie.”

Scott rolls his eyes at Stiles, “I think you're mixing my shower supplies up with yourself” he calls, in a good natured, teasing way, but he lobs a kit with body wash in it at Stiles any ways.

 

Under the hot pounding water Stiles relaxes, winds his shoulder back to get the kinks out and yells back into the locker room “Hey did anyone else see Derek Hale watching our game like a total creeper?”

No one bothers to respond, maybe they don't hear him, most likely they don't care. Stiles goes back to scrubbing but he cant shake the feeling those wolf eyes left on his skin. It's almost as if he was staring right at me, he thinks. He shakes his head, water spraying. It couldn't be. Ever since Scott was turned, and after all the supernatural adventures him and rest of the pack were thrown into, Stiles was sure that Derek thought of him as just another part of the team, nothing special, and possibly a little annoying. No reason to look at him specifically, as much as Stiles might want his attention.

Actually part of the reason Derek probably found him annoying is because Stiles might have gone a little overboard trying to get the attention of the stoic werewolf in all the stupidest little ways possible...

 

“ _Derek can i have your Slurpee?”_

“ _no”_

“ _I licked the straw, now its got cooties, human cooties. You're probably allergic Derek. It's like cross-species contamination or something. I'll just take it off your hands. Grape flavour is so not you anyways. I'm totally saving you from purple tongued embarrassment. Hey! Do werewolves get brain freeze?”_

_No response from Derek except a sigh and an unreadable expression on his face, sort of a cross between amusement and pain._

 

Nope, Derek wouldn't have been here to look at him, Stiles decides. He turns off the water like a period at the end of his thought stream.

 

 

Chapter 3 – DEREK:

 

His phone buzzes on the bed beside him sometime around midnight, and Derek leans over from staring at the ceiling to check it.

 

 

Stiles: WTH were you doing at a high school game lol. Getting nostalgic old man?

 

Stiles: Or is there a new big bad guy you have failed to mention? Its the new guy on the team this year isnt it? I fkin KNEW hes a shifter!

 

**Derek: No**

 

Stiles: Omg Derek, could you be any more cryptic. No.

 

**Derek: No there is no “big bad guy” that I know of**

 

Stiles: so what were you doing there then you creeper. Checking out my new moves?

 

**Derek: You mean your new ways of tripping over yourself?**

 

Stiles: Jerk. You're just jealous that Im going to be MVP this year

 

**Derek: Most volatile person?**

 

Stiles: Derek!!! you almost made a joke! But Most Volatile Person is actually what we all call YOU behind your back

 

**Derek: Im going back to sleep**

 

Stiles: Night night mr. Wolf

 

Stiles: Hey! You never told me why you were there??

 

 

Derek doesn't answer. And he doesn't sleep.

 

 

Chapter 4 - STILES:

 

The next day is cold, the jeep takes an extra 5 minutes to warm up. Winter is right around the corner. Halloween even sooner. Stiles is 72 percent certain he is going to try his hand at an ironic little red riding hood costume. He assumes that the wolves and the other assorted Weres will just throw on their beta form. Should be a killer warehouse party in the lower east end this year. Hopefully not too killer, he thinks with a frown. Shit is so much more real now. He stops to pick up Scott on the way because he is running early and bored. Scott is running late, and he looks worried.

“Whats up?” Stiles asks as soon as Scott has thrown his back pack in.

“Witches-” Scott looks slant eyed at Stiles from the shot gun seat as he slams the door. “-maybe”.

“Maybe witches” Stiles repeats in a flat tone thats all like --are-you-kidding-me-of-course-you're-not-this-is-life now--.

“Allison's dad, he heard something from his buddies up north” Scott said, exchanging another look with Stiles “they said there was a town with a witch problem and they got them out, but didn't kill them. So now they are on the move, and sources say they are settling in here”.

“too much to hope they came here to sell dreamcatchers and light some scented herbs on fire isn't it?” Stiles said in a distracted tone. Obviously they were going to be a problem, too much powerful magic in Beacon Hills for any witch to lie low for long. “So...what are we going to do? What's the plan?”

“Wait until they start to cause problems I guess” replies Scott.

They pulled up to the school. Neither of them were happy with the prospect of waiting on witches, but what else could they do at this point. They got out and separated to head to different ends of the building.

“let me know if you see anything that looks like the cast of Charmed” jokes Stiles, although it falls a little flat.

“yeah, yeah” Scott waves.

 

Well, not a boring halloween then. A gust of wind blew a bunch of dried leaves up in a mini tornado in agreement.

 

 

Chapter 5 – DEREK:

  
Cora flips her dark hair over one shoulder and looks at Derek, annoyed.

 

“If you're pouting because you didn't get the last pop tart then seriously dude, buy more then one box of pop tarts”

“I'm not pouting” pouts Derek from his place monopolizing the only couch in the loft. “And I don't eat pop tarts, I eat egg whites and asparagus”

“what the...?” Cora laughs and snorts “you don't even know how to cook asparagus... Wait do you? Because I am really sick of takeout, honestly”.

Derek looks away, broodily. “nah, Stiles just said that when I refused a fucking burger at that McDonald's that smells like rotting squirrel all the time”.

“ooooh the one on 5th!”comes Cora's voice out of the fridge, before she pops back out to take a swig from a jug of milk.

“Cora! Would it kill you to use a god damn glass?” bitches Derek.

 

Cora makes a face at her brother and takes another long and pointed drink. “Well someone has their panties in a bunch, is it close to full moon or have you just been marinating in the heartbreak of your last few relationships for too long?”

She comes to perch on the edge of the couch and takes a scent of Derek daintily. “ew, Der, the sick smell of pining, why the hell don't you just tell him? Get it over with, if he's in, he's in. Good times to be had by all, and less grumpy Derek for sweet and compassionate Cora to deal with.” she pushes his legs off one side of the couch to sit down.

“He deserves a life outside of my fucked up shit Cora” Derek growls out in a low voice.

“Oh give me a fucking break! This shit again? Uunnngggg. You are so... so... melon-dramatic!”

“ummmmm do you mean melodramatic?” Derek half smiles, lifting his eyes up off the floor. He can't contain the laugh building up inside him “Did you just actually say MELON dramatic?!” Hahaha! “oh man Cor you are a gem, what type of melon is the most dramatic? Is it honey dew?”

His mouth is smothered by the pillow she pushes him down with, as she leaps on him.

“oh like you're so smart you smart ass. I'll kill you!”

He flips her off easily and tickles her to the floor. “Or maybe its Cantaloupe, because it's the only melon that cant run off to get married?”

Cora rolls her eyes at him and escapes to run off to her room upstairs, but she is giggling a little. Derek springs up and rubs a hand over his jaw, Cora's right about one thing, he has _got_ to get out of this funk. He wanders over to the fridge and considers the tainted milk. Maybe he'll just go for another run.

 

 

Chapter 6 – STILES:

 

In his room after school, Stiles drops down at his desk and despondently pokes a finger at his algebra book. Spins once in his chair and flips open his laptop to do some research on the witch issue. Mr. Argent hadn't had much more info then Allison had already told Scott. Also nothing weird-in-a-bad-way had happened yet, but some general knowledge never hurt.

It was getting dark and even more fucking COLD, so after a few minutes, Stiles popped up to close the window, glanced outside and could have sworn he saw.. no that couldn't be Derek. Derek would have just come in and demanded something, total dick. Not that Stiles is thinking about a demanding Derek and his dick. Nope. That would be just, dumber then his crush he had on Lidia for a billion years. No, there was no way Stiles was going to let this NON-crush develop into anything that lasted for any amount time. He was going to commit himself to pining for people in the realm, the _universe_ , of feasible partners. Definitely not emotionally closed off walls of muscle. Definitely not pushy predators who only date monsters that look like they stepped out of a Maxim magazine. Female monsters, he reminds himself. Not everyone is sexually flexible obviously and even if research showed that werwolves usually end up pair bonded with their mate regardless of gender, Derek had never shown any signs of being attracted to men or even remotely interested in finding a mate. Stiles himself has been comfortable with his pansexual status for a while now. It's all good to him, literally.

 Derek has been a feature in his late-night mind movies, yeah, but that doesn't make him obsessed or anything. Derek's good looking. Great looking. So its normal. He's a normal dude with normal feelings for a totally straight wolf-man. He can prove it by totally bro-texting him right now.

 

 

 

Chapter 7 -DEREK:

 

It smells like approaching winter, that distinctive smell of the cold encroaching. Derek has always had the sense of smell that he has. It feels totally normal to him. Like being able to see a certain distance. He knows not everyone has these heightened abilities, but it's just another day for Derek. Not only can he smell winter, he can smell whats in the garbage can 3 blocks away from where he is outside Stiles' house and he can hear a long distance too. He has total control over these senses, just like any human could pick out the smell of a bouquet of flowers from the regular smells of the living room, or choose whether to listen to the TV or a phone call they are on. Its normal for Derek to be outside Stiles' house (well its not totally normal, he admits, its a touch stalkery) but its normal to be outside and able to hear Stiles type on his computer and mumble to himself. Derek can focus on his smell (sweat from the day at school), and his aura of tiredness. These things are things that Derek can focus on in anyone so he's used to it.

What he has never gotten used to is the heartbeat thing. The sound, so strong, that he can hear so clearly and differentiate from anyone else's. Stiles' heart has always sounded so unique to Derek. If he cared to admit it to himself, he might say that he's a little addicted to the sound. It's a mix of comforting and exciting that draws him to it every time he's gone.

He looks up at the bedroom window from where he is leaning back, one knee bent and the sole of his boot on the neighbours house behind him. Stiles is safe and behaving normally. No one else in his room with him-- which he only confirms for safety reasons of course...

He pushes off the wall and turns to go when he hears Stiles get up from his chair and start walking. Derek stops and looks despite himself, allowing himself a glimpse of Stiles closing the window before he slips off into the shadows. It's better for Stiles if Derek just protects him (is possessive of him) from afar. He's lost too many people and been poisoned in too many relationships to let himself construct another one.

He pops his collar on the way home. Carefully checks the placement of his unfeeling facade before he reaches his front door. Scott should be on his way over soon with info on the latest fresh hell. What fresh hell? Witches of fucking course, just in time for halloween. Derek's phone vibrates just as he pulls open the door to his loft.

 

 

STILES: Sup home boy. Homie. Home skillet

 

**DEREK: .....**

 

STILES: just checking in, you know, as a pack friend. Checkin in on the Double-U Eye Tee Cee Aych issue

 

**DEREK: why are you being weirder then usual**

 

STILES: It spells Witch Derek. I was talking in code

 

**DEREK: I don't think there are any 4 year olds listening in on this “conversation”**

 

STILES: Dont air-quote away what we have together. Our witty repartee is what makes us who we are to one another.

 

STILES: as bro's. Bro's in the fight against evil

 

**DEREK: Well I'm going to end whatever this is. Scott's here**

 

STILES: WAIT! Were you outside my house tonight? I swear i saw u

 

STILES: Derek?

 

STILES: helloooooo000ooo.... <<hahaa!! That was a wolf joke.. get it?

 

Scott arrives on time and on his dirt bike. He takes off his helmet and ruffles a hand through his hair while taking the steps up to the loft 4 at a time. Derek opens the door just as he arrives at the top.

 “Sup dude-wolf” said Scott.

Derek glowers at him, low key glower though, not blue steel glare, “what's with all of you and your slaughter of the english language?”

“Oh its just the dopest, Hale-y ” Chortles Scott, unfazed by Derek's Derek-y ways.

Scott throws a brown folder at Derek, who catches it neatly out of the air. “This is the info we have on the witches”

“Pretty light” Derek says, tapping it against his palm.

“Stiles is working on it and Chris said he would tell us if he got any more news from his hunter buddies”

Derek opens the folder, still standing, as Scott plunks himself down on the couch and starts to thumb through a book he finds there.

Inside the folder are a couple pieces of paper outlining the witches' bad deeds so far. Some low level stuff on the first page: animal sacrifice, defacing public property and setting a few illegal fires in the woods. But on page 2, dated more recently, it looks like they were upping their game, involving human sacrifice in a demon summoning ritual that was thwarted by a couple of hunter brothers who seem to know what they're doing judging by the complex latin in the margins of their part. They nailed the demon and sent it back to hell, but the witches did a vanishing act and slipped away. The report goes on to say that this coven originated in northern Oregon and membership appears to go up and down. There is some more writing scrawled on the bottom, clearly in code, and then the words: “At large- Very powerful” That part is underlined a few times. Derek files this info away in his head, as well as the new-to-him knowledge that hunters have a pretty decent info share system within their ranks. Good to know.

 

 

Chapter 8 – STILES:

 

They find the first of the witches' victims later that week. Stiles isn't sure if that's sooner or later than he expected. It was Lydia, of course, who came upon the poor old lady. She looks like she may have been homeless, and there is a overturned shopping cart full of belonging that corroborates that story close to her motionless body. Lydia had messaged all of them, but the only pack members free to come down were Derek, Stiles, Allison and Erica. Scott is working at the Pet Clinic tonight. That's actually perfect, thinks Styles, and texts him that they will be bringing a body for Dr. Deaton to look over. Deaton might be able to figure out how she died. It's almost certainly witchy. There is a bunch of symbolic looking marks scrawled on her arms and a little bag of what appears to be chicken bones and other gross stuff sitting on her chest.

They split into groups. Lydia take the girls in her car, so Derek and Stiles are left with the body and Derek's Camaro. Not the best combo really, thinks Stiles, wondering aloud how there are going to get the poor woman's body into the trunk. Derek rolls his eyes and pops the trunk, and there is a surprising amount of room back there. This probably isn't the first time that a body has been in there actually, a testament to how fucked up their lives are. Derek puts down a tarp he had stowed away somewhere and carefully lifts the body into the trunk. Stiles absolutely does not admire the flexing of the muscles in Derek's arms because that would be creepy given the dead body in said arms.

“Get in” grunts Derek and Stiles realizes that the trunk is closed and he must have spaced out for a sec.

He flails into the passenger seat and then Derek is revving the engine and pealing out of the parking lot. Dam this car is sexy. Stiles sneaks only one glance at Derek's masculine hands shifting gears. Alright, maybe more like 3. But he does a pretty good job of covering up his raging hard on for all things wolfy by singing along to 80's pop tunes, off key, and as loudly as possible. Derek's murderous look just makes him look hotter, if thats possible.

 

 

Chapter 9 – STILES:

 

Deaton does indeed figure out how the first vic succumbed and, the next week, how the second and the third die too. Its definitely magic, and this coven is definitely evil. It becomes pretty evident that these unfortunates are being selected by their perceived disposability and lack of connections to any family or societal structures. It is beginning to feel like these killings are testing grounds for something even bigger, and going by the covens MO, this is all leading up to something horrible.

The whole pack feels the tension in the air as they wait for the other shoe to drop. Every lead so far has been a dead end. The breaking point for most of them, especially Lydia who finds every body, is finding the fourth victim just barely alive. Nothing, except the faint beat of the old man's heart, even indicates that he is still living. In fact, the magic is so strong that nothing indicates that this man even exists at all. His scent is gone like it was never there. He is being erased, sucked dry somehow --his life force totally drained, just like the witches' other victims.

Scott runs to him and rips the hex bag off his chest and starts CPR but it is too late. Again. Now everyone is strung tight and snapping at each other in barely masked frustration. After the latest pack meeting comes to a halt after the 3rd blow up that almost resulted in claws, Stiles thinks its a good thing that tomorrow is Halloween. Everyone could use a distraction. He goes to bed feeling something just under the skin that crawls with a bad energy, and he tosses and turns all night, his heart pounding loud in his ears.

 

 

Chapter 10 – STILES:

 

The anticipation of waiting to get into any good party is like the excruciatingly long foreplay to the main event inside, and the people who put this one on are fully aware of that and using it to their advantage by making everyone wait, and WAIT in the line. People are starting to vibrate by the time they open the doors.

When Stiles, Scott, and Lydia finally shuffle in, Stiles breaths in the hot sweaty air and absorbs the blanket of bass that wraps around him and dulls all of the stress from the past few days.... past few years. It's good to let go, let loose. They deserve this. Stiles has a red cape on top of his regular clothes and he gives it a little flourish and winks at a neon girl dancing by. Then, laughing a little like: “yeah Im still a teenager, fuck it!”, he puts his hands up and heads straight into the thick of the crowd, throwing a grin over his shoulder at his friends. They smile back like they caught his vibe and are ready to let it all go too. They so need this.

Stiles looses his friends quickly in the mass of people in a rainbow of costumes. He doesn't care right now though, he feels free for the first time in a long time. He laughs out loud as a tall man in drag sweeps a long boa across his chest and then dances off in a flurry of feathers lit up by laser lights. Stiles dances like its his last night on earth. Rips off his cape and shirt and yells into the noise of the party like he's ripping off the shackles this life seems to place on them all.

Eventually he finds himself sweating and leaning against the bar at the far back of the room. Even the bartender seems to catch the freedom vibe because he doesn't ask for ID. Styles throws back a mixed drink that tastes like orange creamsicle. After that, things get a little fuzzy. Someone laughs close by. The lights seem a little blinding. The noise a little distant. The awake seems a little like sleep now. Yeah, thats a good plan. Sleep now. The last thing Stiles remembers, he's mumbling something important about pancakes and dragons and someone is dragging him into cooler air.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Turns out the witches with all their witchy ways do have a plan! How nice for them, how terrible for everyone else. Lydia is the first to figure it out when she spots very satanic looking marks on the bottles at the bar. Frantically she looks for Styles and Scott. Only Scott is close by so she grabs him and fills him in while texting a group message to the rest of the pack about the new clue.

“This is bad Scott. This is bigger. I can already feel something is not right. Something's coming”.

The rest of the pack come. Cora, Allison and Derek burst through the doors together with anger and determination on every one of their faces. Boyd, Erica and the other wolves are not far behind. Working together, it doesn't take them long to find the hex bags around the perimeter of the building and a long line of what looks copper wire connecting all of them, penning in the unsuspecting partiers. They quickly dismantle the bags and wires and call the cops to bust the party in the hopes that all the kids here will go home and the tainted “whatever” that happened here will wear off. It seems too easy though. No one is collapsing. No witches popped out of the woodwork to try to stop them. They stand around looking at each other as the sirens in the distances howl.

“Where's Stiles?” Grunts Derek.

Scott and Lydia look at each other, panicked. “I haven't seen him” says Scott even as he is already turning and running through the crowd.

The all split in every direction yelling Stiles' name. Its never this easy, they should have known.

 

 

Chapter 11 – Scott:

 

Derek Hale looks furious, thinks Scott. No, more then that, he looks.... panicked? Right now, Derek is semi-frantically scenting the air. It's no use, Scott has already tried, so has the rest of the pack. There is no sign of Stiles anywhere. Not with even with heightened wolf senses. Scott tries very hard not to think about Stile's life force leaving him a shell without energy or scent or breath left.

“Derek, its ok man, we are going to find him” Scott pats the guys shoulder awkwardly.

Inside he feels a little like Derek looks though. Panicked. Angry. Ready to tear the very fabric of the world to find their friend. Scott takes half a second to wonder if Derek maybe thinks of Stiles as more then a friend or a packmate. He's taking it pretty hard. Derek visibly collects himself and takes a step or two back from the group. It looks like he's taking a moment to gather his wits. Derek sits down, head lowered into his hands. Everyone is quite, nothing to say, thinking about what they could possibly do next.

 Then Derek jerks his head up and grunts out a sharp “Everyone shut the fuck up. Stop. Stay still.”

The command is clear. Everyone stops. Derek is totally unmoving. For two breaths, three... and then Derek is running.

 

 

Chapter 12 – DEREK:

 

Derek might feel frantic but his actions come out completely focused. The world has narrowed down to one thing and it's simple. He switches forms to his beta as he is running. Growls and snaps at the air like its getting in his way. Fuck this, he full shifts to his Alpha form. He can hear better and run faster. If anyone sees a wolf running down the main road of Beacon Hills at 4am well who's going to believe them. Quite honestly, there could be the entire film crew from the 5 o'clock news out tonight and it still wouldn't stop him. Focus. Heartbeat: one....two........... one....two.......... so slow it shouldn't even exist, but it's there, thank god. There. And he _will_ make it there. He howls behind him and feels his pack respond and follow.

He tracks Stiles heartbeat to an abandoned warehouse just outside of town. Seriously? Is it always a warehouse? Could you get more cliche? It would be nice to bust down the door of like, an abandoned gym or restaurant once and a while. He knows for a fact there is more then one closed down bar in the vicinity just begging to have some supernatural shit to go down inside of it. Whatever, busting down a warehouse door it is.

Derek shifts back to beta and throws his considerable strength into the old wood. It only takes one attempt. The dust doesn't have a chance to settle before he is scenting the air and running down the hall, vaulting over the rail into the basement. Stiles. Finally. His mind is still on the singular focus he has had this whole time and that's what he blames for running right up to Stiles motionless body in the very centre of the cement floor. Right into a fucking trap. He notices the hex bags in a wide circle at the same moment as he feels his movements slow to a crawl. He whines and it's a high pitched thing. So close... he drags his now collapsed body by his claws over and partially on top of Stiles. His Stiles. Manages to put his ear to the younger mans chest before the world goes black.

 

 

Chapter 13 – SCOTT:

 

The coven of witches are exactly what Scott expected. Garbed in dark clothing with runic jewellery and an air of superiority which is quickly extinguished by many claws and teeth. Their friend and pack-mate, and now their Alpha, are in danger. The coven had planned a trap but had misjudged the ferocity of their bond to each other. Scott lunges at the first witch in a flurry of fur and teeth. How dare they take Stiles. The witches, even with their magical fire balls and their (arguably pretty awesome) freeze rays are no match for the Beacon Hills pack.

At one point in the chaos, Allison gets hit with a glowing cold blue bolt and goes down hard, her arm turning a ghostly white that is quickly creeping up her shoulder. Scott and Issac are on top of the witch who dealt the blow so fast she doesn't even see it coming. While they might have tried to reign it in on a normal capture, the teen wolves are so past taking prisoners that the witch goes down in a heap, claw marks all up and down her front and side. Scott doesn't give the motionless witch another thought as he scrambles to Allison's side. She is clutching at her arm which is thankfully returning to its normal color. She wiggles the fingers experimentally and turns her doe eyes up to Scott to assure him she is fine. Good, the spells seem to be reversible.

Satisfied that Allison is ok, Scott turns to reengage with his fellow pack in battle, but he finds that every single witch has been subdued and the several that are not unconscious are being tied up to a post by the large loading dock door. Allison is already calling her dad to come clean up the mess with his hunter team. This is really their specialty after all. Scott hopes that Chris will overlook Scott and Issac's maybe excessive handiwork on the shredded (but still breathing) witch because, well, she _did_ try to amputate his daughter's arm Bizaro-Elsa styles.

Cora is at Derek's side and Boyd is lifting Styles onto a stack of what looks like empty potato sacks. The hex bags have already been removed and Scott is relieved to see colour and life returning to both of the unconscious men.

While Stiles, breathing regular, seems to be peacefully sleeping now, Derek awakens completely and suddenly. He immediately jumps into fighting stance, claws out, but, when he realizes the danger is passed, retracts his claws and asks for a report from Scott all the while casting glances to Styles' slumbering body.

Scott doesn't mention Derek's reaction to Stiles' abduction and Derek doesn't bring it up. Once Styles is hesitantly blinking his eyes open and slowly sitting up, Derek already has one foot out the door, seemingly only hesitating to make absolutely sure that the younger man is truly fine.

 

 

Chapter 14 – STILES:

 

Of course it was me, he thinks rolling around on his couch in a very self pitying sort of way. Always the week human, being rescued by the big strong Weres. Them and their stupid fast recovery time. His head is _pounding_ like the worst hangover ever, and that, coupled with the fact that every time he stands up he gets stupidly dizzy, is making him very angry. Stiles flips to his other side again and punches the pillow a few too many times in an effort to force it into a comfortable shape. Stupid Derek especially, he thinks and then says it out loud to no one for good measure.

“Stupid Derek. You could have gotten yourself killed!”

He's not entirely sure why he's so furious that he's yelling at the space between himself and the coffee table but he decides not to over analyze it. He decides to take it out on the actual wolf-person his rage is targeted at instead of just being a crazy person alone in his house.

When he reaches for his phone on the table he gets so dizzy he falls to the floor in a flail of limbs. He gives up and stays on the floor, turns his head tentatively with a groan and finds his orange bottle of painkillers he got from Scotts mom yesterday on the carpet under the table. Silver lining of being down on the floor! He grabs that, pops two, (what the hell) three, in his mouth and then drags the phone off the top of the table to in front of his face to start texting.

 

STILES: Thanks for the save and all “derek aka superman aka fucking stupid-man” but wtf you walked right into a trap and why didn't you wait for the betas. You have to be more responsible you MORON. What if you had died? They have an entire coven worth of bad- ju-ju magic and yeah you survived but then you LEFT! Why the fuck didn't you stay? We NEED to sort out why the witches trapped me in particular and what the hell they wanted with trapping a werewolf. Are there more of them out there? Are there more fucked up creatures waiting in the wings to attack? Are aliens real? Bcz im thinkn=ing they are and you probaboly wouldnt tell me if you knew cuz youre a huge dick so just Alpha UP and come here! I cant MOVE and you just need to get here so we can. Fuck just come ok i just need you here? Its pack stuff and you have to do it because pack. Its your job. Wow these painkillers are hard and the floor is very very strong. you know issnt rite now

 

After the text to Derek devolves into an jumbled mess, Stiles drops the phone down to his side without waiting for a response. The pattern on the ceiling is very swirly and funny. He starts giggling and the giggling noise is also incredibly funny. The floor is starting to feel much more comfortable.

Suddenly Derek is in the way of the humorous ceiling and his dark eyebrows are doing that thing where they judge you and dare you to take your clothes off all at the same time. Stiles reaches up to touch Derek's lips because he suddenly and absolutely needs to know how soft they are. Derek gently but firmly pushes his hand down and then lifts his body onto the couch. Stiles very much disapproves of this type of emasculating man handling, thank you very much, although he thinks maybe no one told his cock that, which is currently very interested in discovering what the rest of Derek's body feels like. And because his mind is too fuzzy to reason with his body, he finds himself pulling Derek down on top of him as he gets placed on the couch. He's pretty sure the only reason he even pulled the move off is because Derek is shocked into forgetting how to use his super strength. With 200 pounds of muscular, wolf on top of him, Stiles opens his mouth to tell Derek exactly how furious he is with him, but what comes out is a deep husky “Derek... I.... I want, I need.... ughnnnn.”. He's not sure what he's asking for so he decides to let his hands do the talking (roaming) down Derek's unbelievably sexy back (like how is it even real?) and use his mouth for something much much better. But when he goes in for the kiss, Derek, who may or may not have been in a shock induced trance up until this point, finally comes to and basically leaps to the other side of the room. Stiles has a mini tantrum with his fists on the couch and looking back, yeah he's not going to be super proud of that moment but.... he wants him back... on top of him. He belongs there.

Derek, sounding like he is talking around a gag pushed half way down his throat, grits out “you're high”.

“Of course Im high! I just took the pills under the table. Thats what happens when you take pills from under the table Derek. Now come Baaaaaack.”

Stiles makes grabby hands since he still doesn't trust himself to stand up. Actually, he's pretty sure he _can't_ stand up. His head is full of a million fuzzy stars and his legs are jelly. His dick, on the other hand, could cut diamonds. There was no way Derek can't sense that. Why is he so far away??

“Derek!!!!” he tries to yell angrily, but it comes out half as a wanton whine and half as a dark plea ripped from his very soul.

Derek, the stoic guy he is, looks as though he is willing himself to turn into a statue in the back corner of the room. Some inner part of Sane Stiles is screaming in the back of his mind to stop, for the love of everything holy, embarrassing himself. But the entire cosmos of want in the rest of his head blocks that out no problem. Derek pushes himself into motion and slowly walks towards the couch. Eyes on Stiles eyes. It is the most intense moment of Stiles' actual life. When he gets within touching distance of Stiles, Derek reaches one arm out towards him but aborts the movement so quickly, Stiles is unsure if it really happened at all. The brooding stare lingers on him for one more heartbeat, two, three. Then Derek rips his gaze away and to the floor.

In the two more heartbeats it takes Derek to reach the door, Stiles distinctly hears him say “not like this”. Then the door is slamming and all the stars inside his head dim. His head hurts again, or is it his chest? 17 quiet heartbeats later, Scott is there, giving him water and asking him how many fingers he is holding up. Stiles curls up on his best friend, suddenly incredibly exhausted, and falls into a deep sleep with no dreams.

 

 

Chapter 15 – DEREK:

 

After the wall falls in the east wing of the old hale house, there's really no where else to punch his frustration out on, so he sits on the ground with his fist bleeding down his arm until he can't feel feelings anymore.

 

 

Chapter 16 – STILES:

 

When he wakes up, Stiles knows, _knows_ he fucked up. He remembers everything with surprising clarity. But he doesn't feel as mortified as he thinks he probably should. He feels.... sad? But lighter, like he finally stopped pushing against something that he should have let in a long time ago. It doesn't feel like a huge mistake with Derek. It feels like everything without Derek is a huge mistake. The words Derek said as he left are on repeat in Stile's head. “Not like this”. That is not saying never. That is not saying never at all.

He is still lying on the couch and he has some things to attend to (hello bacon and eggs with a side of hot shower) but he has a plan. And it feels like the most solid plan he has had in months.

 

When Stiles is standing in front of Derek's door a few hours later, he his less sure of his plan then he was before. But after panicking for a few seconds, he takes a deep breath and pulls open the door and walks in. He expects to see Derek standing right there looking at him with a disapproving frown because Derek can always hear him coming, but he is not there. The loft is empty and unmoving.

Discouraged, Stiles turns to go but then something makes him double check the bed. It is unmade as usual and, driven my some unseen force, Stiles walks closer until he sees Derek's sleeping body spread out under a mass of blankets. Absolutely startled, Stiles draws in a sharp breath. To see a werewolf, to see _Derek_ like this is so rare that it actually takes his breath away. Well that, and the fact that sleeping Derek is definitely Stiles' new favourite thing.

The late afternoon light plays upon Derek's tanned shoulders and ripples through his dark hair. His pouty mouth is still and partly open. Vulnerable in a way Stiles doesn't think anyone ever gets to see. And he wants it to be his. All of it. The sourness, the emotionally stunted aggressiveness, the pain behind the eyes, the rare smiles, the courage and self loathing. All of it.

While Stiles is thinking too much thoughts and staring at all of the man laid out in front of him, Derek wakes up. Stiles looks up to find those grey-green-gold eyes on him and before Derek can say anything, or move, or fuck everything up completely, Stiles kisses him. He just does it. Because he knows it's right and he knows it's everything they have both been denying and he just doesn't have it in him to deny himself any longer. It only take 1 heartbeat for Derek to kiss back and only 3 for him to flip Stiles on to the bed and push him into the mattress. It seems like Derek was tired of fighting against it too. There is something wild and possessive in Derek's eyes and they flash red for a split second. Derek looks at him spread out on the bed and growls “mine” and then he is kissing him again and it seems like every ounce of passion is in that one kiss, like Derek is trying to tell him everything with his mouth that he hasn't said in words. Stiles is just starting to adjust to the new way of communicating, because “hell yes” and “more” are going to be Stile's first words in their new language, when suddenly Derek and all his hard body heat are gone. Up and standing over him and not touching anymore. Stiles half sits up confused and not a little frustrated.

 

 

Chapter 17 – DEREK:

 

Stiles is the picture of sex laid out like a hot mess on Derek's bed. His hair is wild, sticking up in every direction, shirt rucked up exposing smooth freckled skin, and hard on clear in his ripped up jeans. It is taking Every. Single. Piece. of restraint Derek has not to get back on that bed and show him just how wreaked he can make him. Stiles is flushed with lust and anger and smells like every good thing Derek has ever had for his own. But he can't have this. If he takes this, he can't be sure that doing so won't stop that one heartbeat Derek values most. Derek can't be sure he won't destroy it like everything else he has loved.

“I.... can't” Is what Derek manages. Inside he is bashing his head against a wall. Nice one Derek, way to express yourself, he thinks. Stiles get up, anger sharp on his scent, heart pounding and flings the blanket he gets tangled in, in Derek's general direction.

“I don't get you Hale. You know what, you have reasons to be fucked up and I get it man, I really do, but you're not the only one with issues and if you never take whats good in your life, you're gonna be fucking alone forever. I'm not game to be on this ride. It's take it or leave it with the Stile's train dude!” Stiles says storming off towards the door and then under his breath “Oh my god did I just call myself a train?” He pauses as he gets to the door and looks back at Derek. Just stares at him like he is looking right through him and tracing the scars on his soul. Then he is gone. Derek listens to the beat of his heart all the way down the stairs and into the jeep before he realizes that this could be the last time he gets to hear it this close ever again. I mean who would hang out with someone after all that's just happened? It would be beyond uncomfortable. And Derek is weak. He cant, just _can't,_ stand there and listen to him leave. It feels like his own heart is inside Stile's chest, and now, it's leaving without him. It takes him seconds to get down the stairs and slam his hand against the drivers side window. Stiles looks up in surprise. Gets out of the car slowly. Looks up at him and his eyes are so clear and his breath is coming short and Stiles is _his_. Whatever the danger, Derek can see it now, it was never his choice to begin with. They belong to each other and they will have to find a way to protect each other from all the dangers that come along because he can not, _can_ _not_ , let this go.

 

 

Chapter 18 – STILES:

 

As soon as he leaves Derek's loft, Stiles gets down the stairs as quickly as his shaking body will let him and straight into the Jeep. After hitting the steering wheel a few times, Stiles gives up on masking his heartbreak with anger and he starts to breakdown. His breath is coming too fast now and he feels panic start to tighten in his chest. He grips the wheel tight and tries to focus on calming things. It is impossible to divert his mind. He was so sure this was the right thing to do, how could he have misread the situation so completely? He starts to drop his head down to rest on his hands when a bang on the glass next to him startles him out of his gradual spiral into darkness and he looks up to see Derek. Stupid, frustrating, gorgeous Derek. Derek who is here, right in front of him as he steps out of the vehicle, right where he should be. Forever looking at Stiles like he is right now. Like this is the only place he ever wants to be.

With Derek staring at him this close and their bodies almost touching stiles has a hard time remembering where he even is, his emotional state flip flopping wildly between vast opposites in a matter of minutes. But the look in Derek's eyes can only be described as heated and when Derek's gaze drops down to his mouth, Stiles forgets to care where he is as long as that look is always and forever directed at him. Stiles experimentally licks at his full bottom lip and yeah, Derek's gaze grows darker. Stiles silently dares him to make a move with his own gaze before leaning his head back on the Jeep, exposing his neck to the wolf in front of him.

Derek's answering growl shakes through his body and the heat between them. Derek is on his neck in a second, marking him up all along the length like a man starving. Derek moves slightly, pushing Stiles back into the cold metal and then they connect where they are both fully hard in the most excruciatingly slow pass of friction.

Eager for more Stiles cants his hips up and Derek grinds down immediately as if on pure instinct, the sound that comes out of Stiles mouth might have been words at some point but now just a gut deep jumble of sounds. More, thinks Stiles, more. Then finally out loud, “Derek, unghh, more, off, this” reduced to monosyllables, he pulls at Derek's henley, runs a hand along the cut of his hip and down to tug at the button of his jeans. It pops open easily and Derek's entire body jerks in response as he is exposed and god, he's not wearing anything underneath those jeans and Stiles just wants so badly to take the thick length of him in hand.

 

Derek groans and pulls away slightly but just to pull down Stiles pants too so his own cock springs free and then Derek is back lining them up and putting a huge hand around Stiles' and starting a slow motion up and down around both of them. Derek's head falls back down into Stile's neck and he whispers “fuck Stiles” into his skin, breath hot and sharp.

Stiles cant look away from where their hands are jerking them off and he thinks this is not going to last long at all. But then Derek is dropping to his knees, looking up, question clear. Mute, for once in his life, Stiles swallows thickly and nods once.

Derek licks a long stripe up the underside before taking him fully into his mouth. Stile's whole world narrows down to that one point where they are connected and the wet heat is fucking amazing. Every part of him is lighting up in anticipation. Just how Derek looks on his knees like this is the hottest thing Stiles has ever seen. Derek's hands are on Stile's hips, thumbs rubbing circles. But when Derek stills and tightens his grip on him and looks up again, dangerous glint in his eyes, and pulls Stiles into his mouth encouraging him to move, thats fucking it. Stiles cant help the snap of his hips into Derek's willing mouth and 1, 2 thrusts and holy fuck he's coming and Derek is swallowing around his cock, dragging every last drop from him. Stiles half collapses, boneless and spent on top of Derek, who stands and supports him easily, slowly licking his swollen lips for every last trace of Stiles.

“Come with me” Derek says quietly and of course Stiles follows him back into the house, back to the bed where all this started tonight. It makes Stiles a little nervous actually, what if it all goes south again? And not the good kind of south. Derek is behind him though pushing him gently down to the bed. He must feel some of Stiles' trepidation because he doesn't do anything just yet. Lays down next to him in the darkening evening light. Stiles waits. Derek sometimes needs a minute to start talking. It doesn't take long for him to speak however.

“I fucked up Stiles. I can't protect you like I should be able to but I can't leave you alone anymore either. You.... you're mine. Its hard to explain. I.... I should have told you before. But you can still make a choice. But you have to do it now.”

“what are you talking about Derek” Stiles asked slowly

“Did you know that I can sense you far better then anyone else? I can smell every minute detail of you and tell if a change in your aura is coming before your mood even shifts. I can hear your heartbeat whenever I'm even remotely in the same area as you. The same city even. It sounds different then any other.”

“What are you saying? Are you saying I'm special to you? Like on some physical plane or some werewolf dimension or like a soul mate or something? Oh my god I.... Am I your soul mate Derek?”

“Well we usually just call it Mate but yeah, thats it. There is only one for each of us and most of us don't ever find it. But I found it.... you” Derek admits looking down and glaring at the blankets.

“why didn't you say something?” Stiles asks, breath caught somewhere in his throat.

“I didn't want you to feel like you had to be bound to me. Me or my curse” He spits the word like it's forced out of him. He looks up then, eyes grey and blue now, a clouded sky. “You still can walk away Stiles. I lost myself there for a moment but I can stop if you ask me to. You can go back to your life and I will live mine like I have been. We don't need to bring it up again. You can be.... free”

It only takes Stiles one heartbeat to jump on top of the werewolf beside him. HIS werewolf.

“You idiot!” he takes the opportunity to feel up Derek's chest and laugh at him at the same time “Derek, you are not cursed, we just live an insanely crazy supernatural life. And just in case you didn't notice, I am getting _myself_ into all the shenanigans I wind up in and _you_ are the one saving my ass. Well except for the times I awesomely swoop in to save your ass.” He reaches around to grab said ass just because he can. Derek looks like the dark is gone from his expression but he still looks a little unconvinced, so Stiles gets serious.

“Listen, I'm in man. All the way. This is good, this is right. It's not just _you_ who can feel this bond right? It's me too. I'm the other half of this fantastic equation and so many things are making sense now. Like how you couldn't stand to be with me while also not being able to stay away. Let all that martyr stuff go now because I'm not going anywhere. Not even if you try and make me with your toughest eyebrow highlighted stares or your patented silent treatments or even your giant abnormal muscles.”

Stiles poked a finger into an offending bicep. Derek is finally looking a little less dire and he gets all the green and gold back in his eyes as he flips Stiles down on his back and hovers over him like Stiles is the most amazing and rare thing in the world but he still has evil plans of devastation. Stiles thinks he can see Derek start to formulate every possible way to undo him. This is going to be awesome.

 A bang of the door sounds and they both whip there head over to see Cora covering her eyes and reaching for her keys on the table.

 “I am not here” she says “oh god am I ever not here. I just need my car. You guys are scarring me for life I hope you know” but there is a hint of happiness in her voice.

 Recovered from his initial shock, Stiles replies jauntily “Get used to it Cora. This is going to be happening a lot. Actually you may want to go live at my house instead.”

 The only answer is a groan from Cora and a door sliding shut again and then Derek is laughing. Laughing! All his white teeth on display, neck thrown back, more free then Stiles has ever seen him and he just knows his heart is pounding faster and he knows that Derek can hear it. Always _will_ hear it. It's a nice thought to have someone for always. They both need this after the lives they have lived, people they have lost. Derek looks back down at Stiles, kisses him softly and pulls away with a smile still on his face. Derek maybe doesn't smile much, but when he does, it's at Stiles, and when he does, it lights up the whole world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> **Trigger warning is for a one time use of perscription painkiller's by Stiles that could be construed to be abuse (he gets high). 
> 
> Yes, the “hunter brothers” in Chapter 7 are Sam and Dean. Just a little Supernatural easter egg for those of you who hunt ;-)
> 
> This is my first fic evaaaaa. I love AO3, the fandoms and all the amazing writers on here so I just wanted to be a part of it too! Any constructive criticism, tips, encouragement or websites for punctuation lessons are all appreciated. Comma's are super hard ok? :)


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